Imogene's Ingenuity (The Alphabet Mail-Order Brides Book 9)

by Reina Torres

  He wanted to reassure her so he simply said, “All you have to do is ask.”

  Turning back to look at him, she bit into her bottom lip and he wondered what was going on in her mind. He didn’t mind letting her think as long as she needed to. Imogene was pretty with her golden hair and delicate features, but when he knew that her mind was mulling over a topic, she became transcendent. A woman with a curious mind was enchanting.

  He was almost startled when he realized that she was looking at him, her eyes searching his face.

  “Did you mean it?”

  “Mean what, Miss Wigg?”

  A smile pulled across her delicate lips. “When you said that all I had to do was ask for what I wanted?”

  At that moment, looking into her eyes, he would have given her everything he owned if only it meant she would smile at him again. Unable to trust his voice he nodded.

  Her resulting smile formed a tight knot in his throat and all he could do was wait for her to voice her request.

  “I would like,” she seemed to take a moment to compose her posture as well as her words, “to help you.”

  He ran the words through his mind once and then again before he narrowed his eyes and looked at her. “You want to help me.”

  She grinned at him, her teeth showing bright in her smile. “That’s exactly what I’d like.” Nodding over at the table she turned back to look at him. “Before I came to Bower, I would visit the print shop back home and they would let me set type. I have small fingers,” she held up her hands and wiggled her fingers, “so it’s easy for me to handle the little metal pieces. It has been a few months since I’ve done anything longer than a few lines, but I’m sure I would be helpful. The piece that Mr. Winslet brought you. I could do that while you continue on with whatever you were planning to work on this morning.”

  He was so tempted to accept, and yet he didn’t want to monopolize her time.

  It had nothing to do with Appleton’s warning. The man had burned his bridges with him early on, but he did make a point.

  “Don’t you want to do something fun with your time? I’m sure Mrs. Hampton would be more than happy to show you around and introduce you to other women in Bower. I’m sure they would be glad of your company as well.”

  He saw the shadow of an emotion pass over her features.

  “Miss Wigg?”

  Looking up at him again, he saw that her mouth had been drawn into a thin, pale line. “I am sorry, Mr. Hix. Am I bothering you?”

  “Bother- bothering?” He shook his head. “No. Of course not.”

  “Then why won’t you let me help?”

  “Surely,” he swallowed and felt his throat grow thick with an un-named emotion, “you would enjoy your time outside away from my dark little corner of the world.”

  She stepped away from him and moved a few steps closer to the press. “What you describe as a dark little corner, Mr. Hix,” she swiveled around on her heel and he couldn’t help but enjoy the picture of feminine grace she presented, “is what I would consider my own corner of heaven.”

  Gesturing to the press behind her she drew in a breath.

  “I’ve had a dream for years,” she explained, “to work in such a place as this. To take thoughts and words and put them down on paper so that people years and years after us will have the ability to see what life was like during our time.

  “Men raise armies to conquer land and gain riches, but the true wealth is the ability of mankind to give independent life to our thoughts that live beyond the time of our mortal lives. Please don’t think that I would rather sit at tea or speak of fabric and gowns. What I want,” she gave him a hesitant smile, “what I dream of, is to do what you do, day in and day out for as long as I am able.” She let out a long breath and then wiped at her eyes, dashing tears from her cheeks. “You must think I’m just a silly woman falling to tears before you like that, Mr. Hix. I am sorry for making such a spectacle of myself.”

  How could he remain silent after such an outpouring of genuine emotion?

  Reaching into his vest pocket, he withdrew his handkerchief and held it out to her.

  She saw the movement and lifted her eyes to look into his. Her gaze was full of questions.

  “Take it,” he told her with a smile. “Please, Miss Wigg.”

  “Thank you,” he could barely hear her words as she took the handkerchief from his hand and used it to dab at her cheeks. “I am-”

  “More than welcome to stay here.” He felt a weight lift from his shoulders as she smiled up at him. “I didn’t want you to feel obligated to help me.”

  “It’s not an obligation,” she confirmed, “it is a joy for me. A way to work my mind, if you will. Some people enjoy puzzles. I enjoy setting type.”

  Grinning at her, he felt a warmth much like a stove spreading through his chest, warming him from the inside out. “Then have your joy, Miss Wigg. I will be quite pleased to avoid the fumbling that I would have to suffer through with each line.”

  Setting her cup down on the end of the desk, Imogene worked at the buttons down the front of her coat.

  While she did that, Silas moved across the room to review his notes. He had stopped in the middle of one project the night before and made notations for himself so he wouldn’t have to rummage through his work before he started in the morning.

  He didn’t want to be rude and turn his back, but he also knew that he couldn’t stand there and watch her remove her coat. It wouldn’t be polite, but it also would have made his cheeks burn as hot as his heart.

  Imogene was a fascinating woman who was quickly becoming as necessary to him as his work. And that, he realized, was a dangerous thought to entertain.

  “Mr. Hix.”

  He turned about and slowly moved his gaze until he met her eyes.

  “Yes, Miss Wigg?” He was afraid she would ask him something else and he’d be powerless to refuse.

  She smiled at him from her perch on one of his stools, her skirts artfully arranged around her legs so that he doubted he’d be able to see either under the layers of fabric. “I just wanted to thank you for the opportunity to help.”

  He struggled to pull himself together and tried to manage a steady tone when he spoke. “You might want to rethink that after you’ve spent the day with me,” he cleared his throat, “I might be a terrible task master.”

  Her laugh was as beautiful as it was frustrating, for it told him she didn’t believe him a bit. “I will take my chances, Mr. Hix. And I’ll thank you still for allowing me to stay.”

  He must have said something in return, perhaps even something polite and gentle. She certainly smiled at him before she turned back to the table and picked up a blank chase to set before her.

  Silas knew he was in trouble and it had nothing to do with Appleton Winslet and his warnings.

  While it was true that he allowed her to stay, the problem was that he was in great danger of hoping that she wouldn’t ever want to leave.

  Chapter 6

  That evening when Imogene walked down to the dining room, she had a decided lightness to her step. When she reached the ground level, she almost bumped into Mr. Hampton coming in from the store room with a small stack of chairs in his arms.

  “Excuse me, Miss Wigg.”

  “Mr. Hampton,” she gestured for him to precede her, “are we having a party this evening?”

  She heard his laughter echoing off the hallway walls.

  “Nothing we planned on, but,” he paused just before the dining room and turned to look back at her, “we seem to have become the most popular place for supper these days.”

  “Oh?”

  He tilted his head toward the dining room and stepped through with a broad grin. “Good to see you again, Mr. Winslet.”

  Imogene tried to keep her smile bright when the man turned his gaze on her. “Mr. Winslet.”

  As Mr. Hampton worked his way past the attorney, Mr. Winslet stepped forward and almost blocked her way.

  “Excus
e me, sir.”

  He cleared his throat and when she stepped in the other direction, he mirrored her movement. “I was wondering if we might have a moment to speak.”

  Leaning to the side, she watched other men help Mr. Hampton to rearrange the seating. She turned her attention back to the man blocking her way. “I would be happy to speak to you later, sir, but I’m needed in the kitchen.”

  A few precious seconds ticked away as if there was a second hand in her chest behind the protective wall of her corset.

  Mr. Hampton peered over the attorney’s shoulder. “So sorry to interrupt. Miss Wigg, my dear wife seems to think you’ve abandoned her.”

  He held out his hand and Imogene grasped it in gratitude and walked around Mr. Winslet with an apologetic smile.

  Before she disappeared into the kitchen she turned when Mr. Hampton cleared his throat. Thinking he had something to say to her she turned and followed his pointed look toward the front of the room.

  Standing beside Mr. Laughlin was Silas Hix.

  She allowed herself a moment and then she moved on into the kitchen.

  Mrs. Hampton smiled at her. “You look flushed.”

  Imogene touched her fingers to her cheek. “I ran down the stairs.”

  Nodding, Mrs. Hampton held out a tray of chops. “Interesting, here.”

  Imogene took the tray and backed through the door with a smile.

  Back in the dining room, the table was filling up. Imogene set the platter down on the table and answered a few greetings from the men gathering at the table.

  Mr. Laughlin gave her a grin and gestured for her to move closer. Curious, she leaned in and waited for him to speak.

  “I saved you this seat.”

  She watched as he touched his hand to the seat beside him.

  “I think we’ve managed to box Mr. Winslet at the other end of the table.”

  Imogene tried not to laugh as she turned away from the table, but she couldn’t help but catch a glimpse of Mr. Hix at the far end of the room. It might have been her imagination, but she thought he smiled when their eyes met, but she couldn’t pause long enough to be sure. And taking too long to look at him would start tongues wagging.

  She certainly didn’t need that.

  Silas couldn’t help but feel the weight of the attorney’s stare on his shoulders, burning on his skin like the sun. It had been foolish for him to go to the Hampton House for his evening meal.

  It made sense in many ways.

  He certainly wasn’t a stranger to the Hamptons. When he first moved to Bower, he spent a little over a month at the boarding house and continued to visit for supper a few times a month.

  It was as good a reason as any to visit, but he hadn’t really expected to see Appleton there.

  Sure, he’d mentioned that he’d been there for a meal and perhaps it was wishful thinking that he wouldn’t return so quickly.

  A soft peal of laughter turned his head and he smiled at the sight before him. Miss Wigg was listening to a story told by Mr. Laughlin, the depot manager.

  He was an older man, injured in the War Between the States. He was nearly the first person that Silas met when he arrived in Bower and he couldn’t begrudge the man such a beautiful companion at dinner.

  “What do you think, Silas?”

  He heard his name and lifted his eyes to find the speaker.

  Mr. Hampton gave him a nod. “Have you had a chance to see much outside of your print shop?”

  It took a moment for him to focus his thoughts on an answer, shaking his head. “Not much. When I need to think I take a walk to one of the rivers and watch the water go by, let my mind wander.”

  “Wander,” the comment came from down the table, but Silas didn’t need to turn to know who said the word and in such a tone.

  “I can see all the way to the tops of the mountains when the sky is clear.”

  “I see that I’ve missed quite a bit.”

  That was Miss Wigg, Imogene. He turned and saw the gentle smile on her lips.

  She wasn’t mocking him. He could tell that in an instant. Her expression was soft and warm and he felt his cheeks warm as well.

  “Coming to Bower,” he explained, his eyes focused on her end of the table, “I traveled by wagon, stage, and train. There were thousands of miles of wild, untamed land that we passed through. Majestic peaks, canyons big enough to serve as a wallow for Paul Bunyan’s ox, and wildflowers that set the prairie ablaze in color, but the mountains that surround us here… in this sheltered valley,” he let out a slow exhale of breath and saw Imogene’s smile broaden, “staggers me with its beauty.”

  He finished his explanation and nodded as if adding punctuation to his words. With that said, he picked up his cup of cool water and took a long drink from it.

  It wasn’t until he set the cup down that he heard the silence surrounding him.

  It was Mrs. Hampton’s expression that made his cheeks warm even more. She stared at him as if she’d never seen him before in her life. Beside her, her husband was trying to hide a grin behind his own cup.

  Mr. Laughlin sat in silence a few feet away and in the midst of the group was Imogene.

  She sat there beaming at him. Her expression easy and beatific. He could read the ease of her posture and the smile in her eyes. It took some of the sting off the reactions of the others.

  “Perhaps,” he acknowledged, “I spoke out of turn and-”

  “It was a bit of a ramble.”

  Silas felt the attorney’s words as if they were scratched into his neck. Swallowing only made the pain worse.

  “I am sorry if I rambled.”

  “No, no.” He heard Imogene again and Appleton’s words faded into the back of his mind. “I think it was eye-opening. My only experience was on the train and I felt as if I missed most of the journey worrying over everything that I was leaving and everything that might go wrong when I arrived here.

  “Now I wish that I had taken the time to look out the window more, observed the world around me.”

  He felt a warm knot form at the center of his chest. “It’s not too late,” he gave her a nod, “you can start with the world around you here.”

  She smiled and shook out her napkin before laying it over her lap again. “I think you should write down your observations of the town,” she lifted her gaze to meet his eyes, “imagine the excitement that might arise from your description. The visitors that would arrive to gaze upon the mountains surrounding Bower! If we have someone in town with artistic skill, they could create a line drawing of a particularly lovely vantage point and we could have a plate created of that drawing.

  “Imagine, a single page sent out to cities and towns all over the continent. A page that could be pinned up in train stations and mercantiles. An advertisement for the beautiful sights and opportunities that abound in Bower.”

  Her excitement was infectious in the best possible way. As Silas looked around the table, he saw the way the others adopted her good mood.

  “That’s quite an idea,” he saw her turn her gaze to him, her eyes sparkling with joy. “What do you think?” He’d turned his attention to the manager of the depot.

  Mr. Laughlin nodded thoughtfully as he passed his coffee cup to Mr. Hampton. “We would need more storage space at the depot. More people means more baggage stored for short periods of time. And the Hamptons would need to add more rooms to accommodate.”

  “And,” Mrs. Hampton added, “we would need a few more employees to take care of the chores here. I’m already exhausted when I lay down my head at night. Imagine if we had more rooms, Miles.”

  Mr. Hampton gave a comical little groan. “My poor back carrying baggage up and down the stairs.”

  Mrs. Hampton touched his arm with a gentle pat. “Poor dear.”

  “And that means that when Zhi Ruo and her father open their restaurant, there would be more customers.”

  Smiling, Mrs. Hampton reached across the table and gave Imogene’s hand a squeeze. “Have you
tried her almond cookies?”

  Imogene’s voice was filled with laughter. “What I managed to wrest from Brigid, yes. They were buttery and delicious.”

  Mrs. Hampton’s soft sigh of delight spoke volumes. “Have they decided what they plan on naming the restaurant?”

  He watched as Imogene pondered over the question. When her mind latched onto the answer, he knew. There was no mistaking the spark in her eyes. “The Golden Dragon.” Her beaming smile seemed to warm the room. “The name holds great meaning to Zhi’s ancestors and will bring luck to their venture.” She turned her gaze back in his direction. “I believe Zhi would like to speak with you about printing the menus for the restaurant.”

  Mr. Hampton shook his head and laughed with good humor. “Sounds like she has a plan for everything around town.” He then looked at Imogene. “Are you planning to run for Mayor?”

  Imogene sank back in her chair, her cheeks a vibrant rush of red as she ducked her gaze down at the table top.

  “I think it’s a fine idea.” Silas heard himself say the words and felt proud of each of them. “From what I understand of the requirements of the job, I think Miss Wigg would be an excellent choice.”

  “A woman as mayor?”

  Silas heard the silence fall in the room.

  Now, there was a good likelihood that most of the men at the table shared Appleton Winslet’s viewpoint on the suitability of a woman holding elected office, but the rest of them managed to hold their tongues and their feelings in check.

  Miss Wigg might be new to their community, but Mrs. Hampton was a well-respected citizen and the Hampton House had been a fixture in Bower since the war. It was hard to imagine that any man who considered himself a part of the community would make such a careless statement in front of the two women.

  “A mayor should have ideas about how to improve the lot of those living in the town. I believe Miss Wigg has demonstrated her aptitude for creative ideas and she can certainly rally support.

  “I believe if given a little time, she could turn our little town into a larger city.”